


keep you warm

by NoShipsLikePartnerships



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Birthday Presents, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoShipsLikePartnerships/pseuds/NoShipsLikePartnerships
Summary: The only people who'd reached out had been his mother, with a quick call that morning, and his sister, who’d sent him a card and promised to take him out the next time he went back home to visit. He’s never been especially close with either of his brothers—too much of an age difference with both of them—though they’ll likely end up sending a text by the end of the day, if they remember. As for his father, well... that would be asking too much, he supposes. But it’s fine, he’s used to it.He isn’t expecting anything else, and is quite surprised, then, when a mail clerk stops by the lab that evening.





	keep you warm

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't originally been planning to write a birthday fic for Hermann (as much as I love him) because I have such a hard time coming up with gift ideas lol. But then this one popped into my head, so I decided to go for it. 
> 
> Partly inspired by zach_stone's lovely fic [here's to you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17473016) which I've been thinking about lately, and which put the idea of 'letters + birthdays' into my mind in the first place.

It’s June 9, 2019 and Hermann Gottlieb has been thirty years old for almost twenty-four hours.

The day’s been mostly uneventful, which is to say, it’s been like every other day since he’s been stationed at the Anchorage Shatterdome. Granted, no one else knows that today is his birthday. He’s never been keen on disclosing that sort of personal information if he can help it, doesn’t like the uncomfortable attention that comes with it. Besides, these last few years, birthdays have become less about celebrating one’s birth, and more about the fact that they’ve survived another year. Honestly, he isn’t sure if that’s something worth celebrating. Yes, they’ve been winning lately, but he can’t help but feel that it’s only a temporary victory. They cannot afford to be complacent. They need to be ready, as it’s always just a matter of time until the next one.

That’s part of why he’d moved from J-tech to K-science, to work on predicting future kaiju attacks, though he’s still asked to consult on Jaeger coding from time to time. The Mark-4’s had been launched a few months ago, and they’re already beginning to work on the Mark-5’s. It’s all keeping him quite busy, to the point that he’d nearly forgotten today’s date, as he often works through the weekends anyway.

The only people who'd reached out had been his mother, with a quick call that morning, and his sister, who’d sent him a card and promised to take him out the next time he went back home to visit. He’s never been especially close with either of his brothers—too much of an age difference with both of them—though they’ll likely end up sending a text by the end of the day, if they remember. As for his father, well... that would be asking too much, he supposes. But it’s fine, he’s used to it. 

He isn’t expecting anything else, and is quite surprised, then, when a mail clerk stops by the lab that evening.

“You’ve got a delivery.”

“I do?” 

“Yeah, just came in express,” the clerk says, handing him a box.

Intrigued, Hermann accepts it, and his heart skips a beat as he looks down at the return address. Holding the box close, he looks back up and clears his throat. “I... thank you. Yes.” And with that, he hurries back to his quarters.

Once he’s inside with the door closed behind him, he leans his cane against the wall, and sits down on his bed to open the box. Inside are an envelope, and a small package wrapped in bright blue paper, with images of balloons on it. He sets the package down beside him and, with shaking hands, opens the envelope and pulls out a letter. 

Hermann stares down at the familiar, messy handwriting, and begins to read.

_Hey. So, like, I know it’s kinda been a while and we didn’t exactly leave things in the best place but... well, it’s your birthday, dude. You’re going to be_ **_thirty_** _. How could I not say something? So... Happy Birthday!_

_I heard you got transferred to Anchorage. That sucks, I know how you feel about the cold. Is it actually cold there in June? Fucked if I know, but so’s the weather these days. (Could I just look it up? Yes. Am I too lazy to bother? Also yes.) Anyway, hopefully these will keep you warm. Or not, I guess, depending. I mean, they don’t call it ‘The Icebox’ for nothing so it must be cold at_ **_some_ ** _point. At any rate, they’ll definitely come in handy if you’re stuck there for another six months... shit, I hope you’re not stuck there for another six months._

_There’s also some tea, I know you like that fancy stuff but it’s super hard to find here, sorry. Besides, this one tastes like birthday cake! At least it’s supposed to, it definitely smells like one. I’m guessing you didn’t tell anyone that it’s your birthday, and cakes are a bitch to send in the mail (there’s also that whole rationing thing) but I wanted to make sure you still got one anyway, sort of. Have a cup, make a wish. (Candles not included. Try not to set anything on fire, thirty is a lot.)_

_-Newt_

Stunned, Hermann puts the letter down, and opens the package, examining its contents: several pairs of thermal socks, and the aforementioned tea.

He takes out the socks, one pair at a time. The material is thick, but soft. A couple of pairs are argyle. One pair has little stars all over them. Another has a dinosaur pattern, if only, Hermann thinks, because Newt could not help himself. It’s a thoughtful gift. Anchorage is not, in fact, as cold as one might think it would be, but it’s still colder than Hermann typically likes, so they’re certainly appreciated.

The tea is packaged in a little bag with a colorful label. He brings it closer and takes a tentative sniff. It does, indeed, smell like an actual cake. It’s also caffeine-free, which is the kind that Hermann prefers, and he’s touched that Newt remembered this.

He puts the bag of tea on the small counter of his kitchenette, and the socks away in his sock drawer. He then goes to his desk and opens a different drawer, inside which is a stack of papers tied together with string. The pages are yellowed with age, and creased from being folded and unfolded countless times.

Hermann carefully folds the letter back up and places it with the others, the ones he’s kept for years, that he hasn’t been able to bring himself to get rid of. After his meeting with Newt had gone so badly, he hadn’t known what to do with them until, finally, he’d packed them up, along with his heart, sealed and hidden away. They’ve been brought along with him from one Shatterdome to the next, some of the very few personal items he’s held onto. He didn’t think he’d ever receive any more of them.

Closing the drawer, he debates the best way to respond. With a letter of his own? A text message? Email? Or perhaps something more immediate? He’s always been rather self-conscious about video calls, and anyway these days the wifi connection is spotty, at best. The cell reception isn’t much better, especially up here, where calls tends to get dropped about half the time. Not that he gets, or makes, very many phone calls to begin with.

He retrieves his phone from his pocket and finds Newt’s number—as with the letters he’d held onto, he couldn’t bring himself to delete it—briefly hesitates, then presses ‘call’ before he can change his mind.

Despite the late hour, Newt answers immediately. 

“Hey, is everything okay?”

At the sound of Newt’s voice, Hermann almost drops the phone. It’s been almost two whole years since he’s last heard it, and it takes him a moment to find his own. “Yes, I... I was just calling to thank you for the gift.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Okay, cool.” His tone is light, but he still sounds... off.

“Is this a bad time?” 

“No, sorry, I just wasn’t expecting... well. You never call, so it surprised me.”

They used to call each other fairly often until they met, and then they didn’t anymore. Hermann hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed it until now, and his grip on the phone tightens. 

“I’m sorry about that.” He’s sorry about a lot of things, though he isn’t sure he’s ready to have that conversation just yet. 

There’s a long stretch of silence, and for a moment, Hermann worries that the call has been dropped. Then he hears Newt clear his throat on the other end of the line. “Yeah,” he finally says, “me too.”

It’s quiet for another few seconds before Newt speaks again.

“So listen, there’s one thing I gotta know...”

“Yes?” Hermann asks, a little too quickly.

“ _Is_ it cold up there, or what?”

Hermann laughs. “Too cold for me,” he says, which is close enough to the truth. It’s actually quite mild, only slightly cooler than it usually is this time of year.

“Ha! I knew it.”

The tension broken, their conversation turns to work. It’s mostly just small talk, which Hermann typically tries to avoid with other people, but he finds that he’s it missed terribly. There’s an odd sort of comfort in the familiarity of listening to Newt ramble on about his latest samples and experiments. He’s currently stationed in Los Angeles, and waiting for the remains of the kaiju that had recently attacked Manila.

It’s strange to think that they’re on the same continent. They may as well be halfway across the world from each other. The irony, of course, being that they’d felt closer to each other when they’d been farther apart, though there isn’t much use in dwelling on that now.

Eventually, Hermann glances at the clock, and finds that they’ve been talking for almost forty minutes. It feels much shorter than that. It feels like no time has passed at all.

“Did you try the tea?” Newt asks.

“Not yet,” Hermann replies. “I’ll have some before bed.”

“Don’t forget to make a wish.”

He smiles. “I will.”

“Anyway, speaking of bed... I should probably let you go, it _is_ a Sunday night.”

“Right,” Hermann says, and tries to hide the disappointment in his voice. He wants to keep talking. He wants to say “Don’t go” and “I miss you” and something else, something he’s still not able to put into words, but he doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he simply says “Thank you again.”

“No problem, man. Happy Birthday.”

“Have a good night, Newton.”

“You too,” Newt says, his voice soft.

Neither of them says “goodbye.” 

Hermann is the one who hangs up first, left staring at the words ‘Call Ended’ and wondering if they’ll actually speak again. Perhaps he’ll call Newt for his birthday, although that’s not until January. Should he call him during the holidays, or would that be too much?

With a small sigh, Hermann puts the phone down, and puts the kettle on. He doesn’t need to figure it out tonight.

The tea is quite nice, as it turns out. It doesn’t _quite_ taste like cake, but it’s close enough. (He does not, however, light any candles.)

He’s never put much stock in birthday wishes, but... if he could ask for just one thing, it would be that they could have a second chance. Try to get it right this time. With that thought in mind, he closes his eyes, and blows softly over his cup before taking a sip. It warms him considerably.

Six months later, he gets the notice that they’re going to be stationed in Hong Kong together, and thinks that, maybe, some wishes do come true.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated :) You can also find me on tumblr @chalkstardust (formerly @thewintersoufflegirl)


End file.
